Grief is a marathon runner. It does not sprint to the finish, for it has no goal. No end in sight. Strung out, nagging. Never lessening so much as just less often. It is both unwanted companion and cold comfort – an emptiness that engulfs a void. A deep cut, then a dull, aching bruise, slowly turning yellow from black. Time further dulls the ache, and perhaps the scar becomes a wrinkle. Though the body repairs, it never forgets – the wrinkle merely a brave face. If you feel devasted and empty when someone is gone – they were worth keeping. And when that someone was this someone – she will in time turn your grief to reassurance: she is the nagging in you. And she is telling you to keep going.
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Si Senor Toro. Ella dice que sigas y sigas con esa esperanza con cual tu vez al mundo. Ella sabe lo que eres. Ella sabe tu tristeza pero tambien sabe tu fortitud. Ella es en ti siempre.
Tus palabras son llenas con belleza y sinceridad.